‘My child, they speak of split hearts,’ Zelda foretells. ‘Jealousy. Guilt. Denial.’

‘Oh my,’ Faith mumbles.

‘This is just a bit of fun, Faith,’ I remind her, leaning closer.

Zelda is in full swing. She opens her eyes and rises from her stool to collect the metal ball of burning sage. Meandering around the caravan-stage, she swings it back and forth, chanting all the while.

When the air around us is thick with smoky incense, she sets aside her priestly contraption and takes to her stool.

‘A damaged heart, it heals stronger.’ Zelda glances at me. Her eyelids flutter as she takes Faith’s hands in hers. ‘I see good man. This man, I think, you know. Work man. Or, maybe, date.’ Leaning in, Zelda bores into her crystal ball. But, apparently, the ball’s not telling. ‘Sometimes, the spirits don’t talk too much.’ She shrugs. ‘But there is one man for you, not too long time. This, Zelda sees, for sure.’

Faith’s face had lit up earlier when she described her first date on the show, with Toby. Zelda the Magnificent: darn good reader of people.

‘I’m not sure I’m looking for just one man, Zelda,’ Faith laughs. ‘Can you check again?’

‘She has a few more dates before we wrap ten episodes,’ I add cheekily.

‘Ah. Yes. And is few more men,’ Zelda cackles. ‘The future is clear. Few more men first.’

‘Phew,’ Faith says. ‘That’s okay then.’

‘Okay. We finish now,’ Zelda declares. She raises her closed palms to the theatrical night sky. ‘We thank you, spirits, for your guidance. We wish you safe passage to the light.’

She flicks a switch and the room is bathed in brightness. The show is over.

‘Thank you, Zelda. That was wonderful,’ Faith says.

My eyes squint against the glare. When they focus, Zelda is staring at me solemnly.

‘Eye is calm in middle of storm,’ she says. ‘You must yet pass through other side. You have the stone?’

The pink quartz Zelda gifted to help me through her foreseen spiritual downpour. It took a trip to the Taxi Lost Property office in Baker Street to retrieve the black coat I’d left in the cab after Howard’s farewell. I haven’t checked the pockets. I’m unsure if the stone is in there.

‘It’s stone of love,’ Zelda says. ‘Love isn’t perfect, remember this, my dahling. But real love… you know it when you feel it.’

13

After the reading with Zelda, Faith and I go for coffee at a café around the corner. We rejoice how well our new show is shaping up and how great it is spending time together again. When I arrive home, on a high, the sight of Jordan pops my balloon.

‘Jordan, you’re home early?’

It’s 6 p.m., so not early, as such. But early for him.

‘Yeah, um, I worked from home a bit. How was your day?’